Page 73 of The Realm That Falls to Her

“There’s so much…” I search for the words. “When I was in your mind,” I say, already a little breathless, “I saw us, together, for the first time, in the library.” I meet his gaze, feeling my heart swell at the recognition in his eyes. “It was…”

“Magnificent?” He chuckles as if he knows exactly where I’m going with this, before his eyes darken with want. “It was the cruelest of punishments to have so many wonderful moments with you stolen away from me, Ella, and now I have them back I’m determined to relive them a million times over.”

“Moments, such as?” I tease, nestling closer. I loved Ruskin before his memories returned, but I have all of him now, and I’m desperate to enjoy everything with him, knowing every touch holds the same meaning for him as it does for me. “Tell me about them,” I say, pressing my hips into him. “Remind me.”

His hand cups between my legs and, even through the fabric of my clothes, the gentle pressure sets my body alight.

“Like having you pressed up against the wall in the rose garden, my fingers inside you,” he answers, stroking my rapidly heating core. “I could feel how much you wanted me, and stars,” he makes an exasperated noise at the memory, “I was all but feral for you, and still you were too stubborn to let me have you. I damn near ripped the palace apart after you walked away that night.”

I can feel myself flush with arousal at the way he tells it, helping me remember it right along with him. Nonetheless, I can’t help but laugh at the characterization—as if he was the only one who suffered.

“It wasn’t easy for me either, you know,” I say, running a finger along his belt, aware of his straining erection just inches away from my fingertips. “I dreamed of you touching me, of the feel of you in my hands…” I press my palm against his groin to emphasize my point, making his eyes close for a moment. “…And still I had to wait.”

He smirks. “I seem to remember you didn’t last twenty-four hours.”

“I don’t remember you complaining about that,” I say, deftly opening his pants and pulling his cock free. He draws my fingertips away, backing me up against the dresser and pushing up my skirts. I take the opportunity to tug my underwear down with a little gasp of excitement. I feel sure he’s going to take me right now against the furniture, and I have absolutely no complaints about that.

His strong thigh presses against the inside of mine, spreading my legs wider, exposing my aching core, and I hitch one leg up over his hip, throwing my head back and holding my breath, waiting for him to enter me, but instead he takes himself in his hand and rubs the head of his cock against my clit, caressing it with his silky skin. My nerves spark and dance at the gentle friction—never quite enough, holding me on the edge of ecstasy. I buck my hips up against him and lift my head to meet his gaze. His eyes are bright as stars, gleaming with a deep joy I instantly recognize in myself too, and I can’t help but grin stupidly up at him. He covers my smile with a kiss, and I lap up the sweet taste of him.

“What will it be, Ella?” he asks, when our mouths part, a devilish smile playing on his own lips. “Should I bend you over and have you like I did in the library?”

I quiver at the thought, then gasp as he strokes himself more firmly against my opening.

“Or should I take you on top of the dressing table, like you seemed to enjoy so much?”

My mind comes alive with the memory of our last visit to the Unseelie Court.

“Or perhaps on the floor, with you taking me for a ride? Though I’m afraid we’ll have to forgo the tent.”

I close my eyes, trying to fight my blind hunger for him so I can conjure up a coherent answer.

“All of it,” I whimper, unable to choose. “I want all of it.”

He cradles my face.

“Oh I know, my love,” he says soothingly. “I was just asking where you wanted to start.”

I soon discover he’s not joking. Ruskin seems to want to relive every time we’ve made love, every angle that we’ve found to take pleasure in each other. I thank my increased strength and stamina by the time he brings me to climax for the third time. He asks me if I want more and I say yes, beg for it. We’re making up for the missing days, and perhaps both a little afraid that if we ever stop, we might lose them again.

He seems to sense this edge of anxiety in me, because when we finish from that round, it’s in the comforting embrace of the bed, Ruskin leaning over me, and whispering to me in calming tones.

“It’s all right, Ella, I’m here now,” he says, and I’m shocked to find myself almost on the edge of tears. A strange storm of happiness floods into me, tension rushing out of me at the same time. I trace the planes of his face with my fingers.

“I know you never left,” I say truthfully. “Not really. But sometimes it felt so lonely, being the only one to remember us, how we were.”

I see the flash of pain in his face at my admission. “I never want you to feel alone like that again,” he says, almost angrily.

“I won’t,” I reply, the words carrying my certainty. “Because I know now, even if I have to turn this realm upside down, I can always find a way back to you. I just might need you to remind me of that fact every once in a while,” I whisper.

“Of course,” he promises and kisses me, his strong hands wrapping around my back to pull me up against his chest, the soft yielding flesh of my body meeting the firm muscles of his. I moan softly into his mouth and wrap my legs around his waist. Our lips still exploring each other, he presses himself inside me again, my already sated body taking the length of him easily. This time there’s no frenzied movement, just slow, steady strokes, our bodies fitting perfectly together, as we clasp tight to each other like we’ll never let go.

The final, shuddering completion washes all anxiety away from me, and we collapse together into the soft mattress, neither one of us making any move to separate for a long time after. When we do, I nestle up close against Ruskin’s chest, his arms enclosing me, and I breathe in his sweet scent.

It’s the smell of home to me. I’d imagine he feels the same way about my scent. Parts of us live inside one other now. Ruskin may not have looked inside my head, but I know he’s there, always with me. It’s where I want him to be, even with the price. And there is a price. The memory of the bloody throne room I saw in Ruskin’s head is still with me, hovering in the background, and as I slip into sleep, it morphs into another scene, where I stand in Cavalil, and I’m the one spraying crimson across the ground.

I’m aware of feeling relieved when my dream doesn’t dwell on either image for too long, taking me through a confusing stream of other scenes from Ruskin’s memories. And then I’m waking again, this time with him still warm and close by my side.

“Ruskin, I learned something about Evanthe when I was in your memory,” I murmur. He immediately opens his eyes, confirming my suspicions that he wasn’t fully asleep.

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